by Dawn Brookes
Opening the doors on to the balcony, she sat outside with her coffee. It was warm, and although the sun was more or less above the ship, she could see the reflection shining on what was now a calm blue sea. It was as if last night had never happened and the morning had cleaned everything away – the angry sea had gone; the threatening dark and the tumultuous thoughts had all disappeared with it. She was on a cruise ship with a lovely old lady in the room next door and her friend close by. There was absolutely nothing disturbing going on, except in her head.
The phone in her room rang.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Rachel. How was your night?” It was Sarah.
“Alright. considering the storm,” Rachel replied, deciding to forget about the weird events. “Were you busy?”
“Afraid so. Anyway, I am calling to see if you want to meet up this afternoon for an hour. I am busy the rest of the day.”
“Yes, that would be great.” They arranged to meet later and Sarah hung up.
Having looked through the Coral News at the activities for the day, Rachel decided to have lunch and then go to an art auction. Not that she could afford to buy any art, but she liked looking at paintings by famous artists, and she enjoyed window shopping. In addition to that, there was the offer of free champagne. After the auction, she would meet Sarah for tea, and then take it from there. She had planned to discuss her concerns about the visitor in the night with Sarah. However, this morning she was able to shrug them off and decided that her friend had enough to think about without worrying that Rachel was losing her mind.
During the night, Rachel had decided to ask Marjorie if anything was bothering her, without telling her about the man at her door. She concluded that it would just put unconfirmed suspicions into an elderly lady’s head and frighten her unnecessarily. In addition, Marjorie might think the girl she had befriended was a bit unhinged and start avoiding her. The morning light had brought back the rational Rachel, and it was that person who was going to enjoy her cruise.
The weather had turned much warmer as the ship headed south towards Lisbon. The capital of Portugal was to be the first land stop of the trip. Rachel dressed in a pair of smart-casual white cotton trousers and a short-sleeved pink cotton top, then donned a pair of pink sandals.
She went for a buffet lunch and found herself a salad to eat, amazed at how much food people managed to pile onto their plates all in one go. The buffet was noisy and busy, and she wondered whether others had also missed breakfast or whether they ate like this at every meal.
After eating, she made her way to deck fourteen, above the lido deck, and found a single sun lounger free. This part of the deck formed a circle similar to a balcony, and steps led from it down to the pool. Rachel sat on the sun lounger for a while, observing her surroundings. She could clearly see the swimming pool, spa and children’s pool below. The pool was large enough for a swim, but only half the length of the pool she was used to, and far too busy to tempt her in.
A band set up on the stage as the smell of burgers and sausages wafted through the air from her left. The grill bar seemed to be permanently open and especially popular, and she noticed for the first time an ice cream bar next to the cocktail bar to her right.
The pools were at the back of the ship, away from the quieter areas. She watched as people left towels on the sun loungers when they went off for lunch in the buffet bar – something that was strictly forbidden. Other people were walking around, looking for loungers, and Rachel thought it was unfair that most of them had been reserved, but it was not her responsibility so she left it to the pool attendants to prevent this from happening.
Waiters made regular rounds, offering people drinks. Some people were sleeping in the sun, which Rachel knew they would regret later. Some people were applying sun cream frequently and reminding their children to do the same, while others were not bothering.
Poor Sarah – it will be sunburn she will be treating later on.
Rachel realised she didn’t have any sun cream with her so she sat in the partial shade. As she was one of the few people not wearing a bathing costume, she wasn’t too worried.
After watching people for a while, she turned to face the sea and got her book out to read as she had half an hour before the art auction started. She heard a familiar voice to her left and was dismayed to see Carlos chatting to a young woman in his normal charming style. She tried not to look, but couldn’t help herself.
He looked even more handsome today as the sun’s rays were dancing in his hair. He had on a pair of khaki shorts that stopped just above the knees, and she could see his legs were as brown as his arms. His calves were strong and muscular as if he worked out, and he was wearing flip-flops. He was carrying his t-shirt in his left hand, and his torso was just as she’d expected: toned, but not overly worked-out.
Moving her gaze up to his head, she noticed how his jawline was perfectly set in his face. Not a feature was out of place, except, if she was being picky, his ears, which stuck out ever so slightly. He smiled at the woman he was talking to and his white teeth contrasted with his tanned face.
Rachel was just about to see who he was talking to when the woman moved and he caught her looking at him. She looked away quickly as he came towards her.
“There you are,” he said. “I have been looking for you everywhere. I was most dismayed not to see you at dinner last night.”
“I had dinner with my friend in the officers’ dining room.” For some reason, she didn’t mention the presence of Marjorie. She wanted to ask him who he had been talking to, but thought that would give him too many signals that she was interested.
“I see, my loss was their gain. Did you enjoy hobnobbing with the officers?”
Rachel didn’t like the insinuation, and before thinking, replied rather sharply, “I had a lovely dinner with my friend. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He looked a little bit taken aback, and then, with a pretence at hurt, he said, “I did not mean to offend you, but you must realise that any man who sees you would want to get to know you better.”
His smile disarmed her and she laughed.
“You say some crazy things.” She saw he was about to sit on the side of her lounger and she got up quickly. “Would you like this lounger? I’m afraid I need to go.”
“Mamma Mia! You can’t leave so soon. Where are you going?”
“To the art auction on deck six.”
“I was just on my way there myself, so in that case, I shall accompany you.” Before she could protest, he had helped her to her feet and was marching her off towards the lifts.
They arrived at the auction in plenty of time and registered their presence. They were each given a bidding card in case they wanted to buy anything and were encouraged to browse the lots, which Rachel was keen to do.
The auction lots were originals and limited edition prints in various sizes and formats, all numbered. The large pieces with elaborate frames were standing on easels, and smaller pieces were hanging on makeshift walls.
Carlos made polite conversation, but he did stand back and allow her to browse, giving the appearance of browsing himself. He looked distracted, glancing around as if he was waiting for someone.
That girl he was speaking to upstairs, I suspect.
Then he moved away and left her browsing for a while.
She wasn’t going to let his presence spoil her appreciation of all the art pieces and she paused to look at some prints by the Ukrainian artist Anatole Krasnyansky. She liked brightly coloured work, and his held a mixture of surrealism with a sense of structure and purpose. She was looking at a print of his Russia Red Sunset when she lost sight of Carlos.
She sighed and moved around the room, looking at the many varied prints. There was even a Picasso original for sale.
Other prints she browsed were by Salvador Dali and Thomas Kinkade. There were hundreds to look at, and after about an hour, she realised that the auction was about to start.
Car
los appeared by her side.
“Shall we find a seat?” he asked and handed her a glass of champagne.
“There are two over there.” Rachel pointed out.
“Oh no, these will be better just there.” He led her away to two seats that weren’t very well positioned at all. As she sat down, she saw Marjorie three rows in front on the opposite side to where they were seated.
Carlos must have realised Rachel was looking at him, perplexed.
“I thought I saw a friend over there from Rome, but it is not him,” he said quickly.
His explanation was perfectly plausible and it was a packed auction room.
It’s just a coincidence.
The auction began with a rather prolonged introduction and sales pitch, followed by a few giveaways. After this, the paintings were brought to the front one by one and auctioned off.
It was actually quite exciting. Rachel could have afforded some of the cheaper lots, but she didn’t want to spend her spare cash at the moment. She noticed Marjorie bidding for a Dali. Rachel was not surprised that Marjorie would like art, and having a spend might help ease some of the pain she must be going through. The bidding was in US dollars, and Rachel was trying to do the calculations in her head. Marjorie bought the painting for around £2,500 by her calculation.
After about an hour, Rachel looked at her watch and turned to Carlos.
“I need to go, I’m afraid. I am meeting my friend, Sarah, for tea before she goes into evening surgery.”
“Will I see you at dinner?” he whispered.
“I will be there, so yes,” she replied.
She waited for him to move, but realised that he was staying so she got up and left. The confused thoughts returned again as she made her way down to deck five where she would meet Sarah. She liked Carlos and was definitely attracted to him, and she sensed he was attracted to her, too, but there was something else going on that she couldn’t put her finger on. It was like an itch that couldn’t be scratched and it was disturbing.
She saw Sarah as she walked down the stairs into the main atrium, realising that she hadn’t been inside any of the shops on board yet. The sea days were flying by. Sarah greeted her warmly and they moved into the patisserie, which was less busy than the other areas because passengers had to pay for cakes and drinks in there.
Sarah smiled at one of the waiters and he came over to serve them.
“I’ll have a cappuccino and a slice of that delicious looking strawberry cake,” said Sarah.
“A coffee for me and a slice of blackcurrant cheesecake, please,” said Rachel, handing over her payment card.
“No payment, ma’am.” He smiled at Sarah before walking away.
“Oh, he’s sweet on you,” said Rachel, laughing.
“He’s nice, from the Czech Republic. We met in surgery two weeks ago. He’s been following me around ever since, but in a nice rather than a weird way.”
“I’m pleased you know the difference,” said Rachel, thinking of a few of the stalkers she had had to deal with as a policewoman. No stalking was acceptable, but it was hard to differentiate between the annoying-but-harmless kind and the downright dangerous kind. The police took the problem much more seriously than they had in the past, and Rachel told Sarah how her sergeant was obsessive about it.
“He’s probably been burned in the past. I bet someone ended up seriously harmed or even killed,” said Sarah. “I have worked with doctors who have become so cautious that they end up wasting thousands of pounds ordering unnecessary tests. It’s usually because they missed a cancer and a patient died as a result. Some doctors never forgive themselves, while others accept their own fallibility.”
“You’re right. He let someone go that he should have charged, and they went on to kill. I have arrested some right scumbags who are relatively harmless, and then I arrest someone who appears to be an outstanding citizen, but there is something in the eyes that make me want to lock them away forever. Of course, it ends up being down to the courts and how much evidence we can gather. Then there are people who drop charges before it goes to court. It’s a complicated world out there. Anyway, tell me more about the waiter. Do you like him?”
“If you mean like-like, then no. He’s nice enough, but not my type. I’m a bit wary of cruise ship relationships because word gets around and life is just too hectic. I could do without the complications.”
“What’s your new baby doc like then?” asked Rachel.
“He’s nice. His name is Alessandro Romano, but thankfully he prefers Alex. He’s good under pressure, which is what we need because he has to do the bulk of the work while Graham goes off seeing passengers who don’t really need him, but who demand to be seen. Alex has already had to deal with the broken wrist of an engineer and a miscarriage of a crew member.”
“Oh dear, poor woman. I didn’t think you could deal with all that sort of stuff on board.”
“It’s amazing, Rachel, what we can do. We have X-ray machines, scanners, a blood lab. The only thing we can’t do is operate, so sometimes we have to do an evacuation. The woman will need to go to hospital in Lisbon for a check-up. The other thing we have,” Sarah whispered, “is a morgue.”
Rachel had taken a few trips to morgues and seen a post-mortem as part of her training, but it was not something she wanted to think about.
“By the way,” she said instead, “I think you are going to be seeing some lobsters tonight as there were loads of people out by the pool without sun cream.”
“I suspected as much. People forget how damaging the sun can be out at sea because they feel a breeze.”
They moved on from work talk and Rachel decided to tell Sarah about Carlos.
“I’ve been a bit silly. I have met this guy called Carlos who sits at my dinner table. I noticed him on the lido deck the first day of the cruise because he’s really handsome and he seems interested, but what’s the point? It’s just a two-week holiday.”
“A two-week holiday where you could have some fun. Just take it as it comes and try not to stress about it – if something comes of it, then great. If not, you will have had a nice holiday and some fun with a guy, no strings attached.”
“You might be right, you know, but then you could let your hair down a bit and find some handsome officer to go out with.”
“Maybe I will. Changing the subject, I have got shore leave tomorrow as Alex and Brigitte are staying on board. I think she’s quite sweet on him, but the new senior, Gwen, will be staying behind too, so she won’t get a look-in.”
“Oh yes. You haven’t told me about your new senior.”
“Nothing to tell. Workaholic, but okay – you know the type.”
After Sarah had left, Rachel changed for dinner and felt excited anticipation about seeing Carlos. She’d decided to take Sarah’s advice and just enjoy his company without pinning any hopes on it becoming a romance.
Looking in the mirror, she was pleased with what she saw. She had chosen a maroon cocktail dress that her father had bought her when he took her shopping before the cruise. He had insisted on kitting her out with enough dresses, including evening dresses for the three formal nights when the captain and crew would be present, and champagne and canapés would be served before dinner. This dress was ideal for this evening. It accentuated her figure without being over-dressy – she didn’t want to appear to be making too much of an effort. It was a hard balance, but she felt that she had achieved it.
A light smattering of makeup and her hair flowing freely, she put on a shawl to cover her shoulders during dinner: a rule for diners eating in the main restaurant. As she left her room, she was feeling slightly nervous.
So much for being relaxed about it, she admonished herself, but smiled happily nonetheless. She hadn’t thought about Robert for two whole days, and that had to be good.
David and Florence were pleased to see her.
“We missed you last night,” Florence said kindly.
“I have a friend who works on the shi
p so we met for dinner,” answered Rachel.
“You look radiant,” said Brenda, who was already seated with Jean.
Rachel blushed, and then as she heard the voice behind her, she blushed even more. Thankfully the lighting was dim and people were chatting so they didn’t notice.
“Good evening.” Carlos announced himself. “How beautiful the ladies look tonight.” His eyes swept the table, but rested on Rachel. “How was tea with your friend?” he enquired.
“It was very nice, thank you. How was the end of the auction?”
“I didn’t stay long,” he answered. Rachel got the feeling he wasn’t being entirely honest.
Perhaps he’s a compulsive liar.
She smiled at him.
Chapter 12
On the third morning of the cruise, the ship was docked in Lisbon.
The day before, Marjorie had met another widow, Freda, while playing bridge in the card room on board ship. They’d got chatting and were both pleased to find someone to share time with. Freda, Marjorie had discovered, had been the wife of an ex-diplomat and had been based in various embassies around the world. They had moved back to Scotland when Freda’s husband had retired and spent many happy years catching up with old friends and family.
“My husband died a year ago following a stroke,” explained Freda. “He was out playing golf when he collapsed, and unfortunately he never regained consciousness. It’s perhaps as well,” she continued. “He would have hated being disabled and was a firm believer in euthanasia.”
Marjorie could empathise with Freda with regards to the sudden loss of a spouse after decades of marriage. “It must have been hard,” she said, remembering how hard it still was for her after Ralph’s death.
“It was awful, to be honest. I just wanted to die myself. If it hadn’t been for the children and grandchildren, I’m not sure what I would have done. I don’t even like to think about it. I still find it difficult to go on sometimes, even with the support of family – the days and nights can be so long, can’t they?”